Nov. 14th, 2004

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UGH. Forget creativity. Just my usual chores have seemed completely overwhelming this weekend, and I'm still not done with them. I don't know what the deal is. I should have had some free time today, but instead I've been stressed/hurried all day, and barely managed to get a half-workout in... staring in the mirror at the body that said I belonged there and the eyes saying faker, you just want to be at home, don't you?.

Much of it is definitely due to our new breadmaker, which has proven very efficient at getting every measuring cup in the house dirty and then spitting out loaves of gluey bread that don't taste good, but do get the bread knife and cutting board dirty. Repeat, repeat, cook dinner, repeat. No wonder the dishes alone have seemed insurmountable (motherfucking measuring cups especially). I even spatted about the whole thing with HLM, in a scene that was straight out of The Bitch in the House Chapter 1, and I couldn't find words to explain why I was so upset and, moreover, why I considered it reasonable for me to be upset, and would in fact get upset again in the same situation. True, this time it was a dirty kitchen. But really, any time any room so defies my control as to mess up my weekend plans, I'm not going to be happy. Rooms are supposed to behave themselves.

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flexagon

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